


Check You Out

by artificialmay



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: AU, F/F, group fic, supermarket au, tbt when i used to work as a checkout chick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-18 15:48:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11877762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artificialmay/pseuds/artificialmay
Summary: I was at work at the supermarket, and decided it was the perfect setting for a group fic. The plot is fairly simple, and this was my first chaptered fic





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the first chapter! Hopefully you enjoy it, it is a tad exposition-y but it should be good x

“So if you want to do a split payment you pull up this window -Sharon!” Phi Phi sighed as she glared at the white haired trainee next to her, who for the second time during her training had her phone in her hand, and her eyes away from the register. Rolling her eyes, Sharon slid the phone into her back pocket.

“Come on, try to act enthusiastic. Customers aren’t going to be very satisfied with someone who seems like they don’t want to be here.  
“I don’t want to be here,” responded Sharon, looking Phi Phi dead in the eyes. “I’m only here because my dad wants me to work in the real world before I go off and do my own thing. I certainly don’t want to say the pinnacle of my life is making supervisor at some rundown grocery store,” she said, a candy sweet tone masking the barb in her words.

Sharon’s dad was on the board of trustees at the supermarket, and was apparently very close to the owner of the whole place, which meant she couldn’t treat Sharon the way she would normally treat an uncooperative trainee, or she’d risk losing her supervisor position, or even her job.

“Alright, well if you scan the next few items I’ll bag for you,” suggested Phi Phi. She watched Sharon’s eyes roll another time and decided she couldn’t wait until Sharon was out of the supermarket.  
••••  
Pearl had been stood at the checkout for several minutes now, as the checkout operator wrangled her produce through the unresponsive scanner. Pearl had taken the opportunity to stare at the cashier’s very nice hands, which connected to very nice arms, a slender neck, and a face like a Renaissance painting, framed with a sleek obsidian ponytail

Pearl came to this store quite often, and a fair bit of the reason was because of the cashier in front of her. She would always make a beeline to the woman who looked as though she belonged in an issue of Vogue, not behind a counter at a grocery store. Every time she came, Pearl would tell herself she’d talk to the cashier, who’s name tag pronounced her bar to be Violet, and every time she’d loiter, picking up her bags, dropping her wallet, and every time being disappointed when she never said anything.

Today’s the day, she thought, preparing herself for what she was going to say. Confidently she opened her mouth, only to smile like a lunatic at the sight of Violet holding her receipt. Squeaking out a small thank you, she scurried out of the store, mentally yelling at herself for her shyness.  
••••  
The worst part of working with the fruit and veg manager was the fact that she was more attractive than she was, thought Willam. If she had been slightly less appealing, it would have been much easier for her, the meat manager to hate the bloody vegan and her contemptuous airs. But since Courtney was blonde, beautiful and seductive, it was harder for Willam to block her out as they began distributing items to shelves throughout the store.

They worked in complete silence, stopping to throw a dirty glance at the other every now and again, building the tension to an unbearable level as they traversed the store side by side.

“Excuse me, do you work here?” asked a woman, cutting the silence between the two.  
“No,” responded Willam, astounded by the idiocy of the customer. “I just nicked a uniform, and have no idea how this mix of gourmet sausages ended up in my hands.”  
Courtney rolled her eyes and directed the woman to her desired location, then turned to chastise Willam.  
“You shouldn’t be so rude to customers. We’re supposed to respect them.”  
“Aw go suck a dick and lighten up,” Willam responded. Courtney huffed, and turned on her heel.  
••••  
Bianca packed up her till, thankful to finally be logging off for the night. She’d taken a double shift, and her feet were killing her, she wanted nothing but to lie on her bed with a glass of wine and an old movie and never think about working ever, ever again.

The sun had already started to set when she exited the store, which unnerved Bianca. She normally only worked the mornings, but when Darienne had texted her asking for her to cover she couldn’t really say no. The other had covered in multiple times for Bianca, so she’d begrudgingly added another four hours to her countdown.

The street was just beginning to come alive on the Friday night, there were only a few small pubs and bars along the street, but already a group of young people was entering them. There was a flash of green hair, and Bianca realised she’d served her earlier that morning - she’d been one of the few interesting customers of the day, and she thought back to their interaction.

“Where’s the Berocca?” the girl had asked.  
“Right down in aisle 4,” responded Bianca, pointing in case the clearly hungover girl couldn’t realise the signs.  
“God, I’m so fucking hungover,” the young woman had said. “Do you have anything else I can grab to make this hangover go away?”  
“A decent handle on my alcohol?”  
“Bitch!” the customer had squealed, causing the only other patron of the store to glare in their direction.   
“Alright, well I’ll go grab my stuff,” the girl responded, and she’d sashayed off, coming back through with the beverage.

And now she was going into another bar, causing Bianca to shake her head.  
“What a moron,” she muttered under her breath, knowing the hangover the mermaid haired girl had been complaining about this morning would probably exist again tomorrow. She watched the girl and her posse enter the bar, and briefly contemplating going as well, before dismissing the thought.  
You’re too old for that she thought as she unlocked her car door.  
••••  
The late night was Trixie’s favourite part of the day, but she wished she didn’t have to spend it working the closing shift, where it would be deathly quiet until fifteen minutes before closing, when suddenly the entire town seemed to turn up with an entire trolley of stuff.

The one perk of the late-night shift though was her co-worker, Katya., an eccentric Russian whom Trixie spent most of the night sitting on her conveyer and talking about something unimportant, usually the movie Contact. Tonight, Katya was trying for what seemed like the millionth time to get Trixie to watch the film.

“I’m telling you Trix, there’s just something that makes it special,” said Katya, her ratty blonde hair swinging as she vigorously wiped down a conveyer belt.  
“I don’t know, it just seems like a couple of hours of my life I’ll never get back.”  
“Would you watch it if I said it meant a lot to me?”  
“Probably,” responded Trixie, rolling her eyes.

Trixie had felt something for Katya since she’d been moved to the late night closing shift, something more than just the friendship they’d formed as they battled tiredness and confused customers well into the night. And what was more, Trixie was fairly sure Katya felt the same way - they were just held back by an awkwardness that hung in the air under the harsh fluorescent lighting.

“Wanna go restock the drinks fridge?” asked Trixie, hopping off the counter and leaning back to the Russian, who smiled and nodded.  
“I’d love to,” she responded, and Trixie could have sworn her co-worker winked.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As anyone who’s ever worked in retail will tell you, Christmas is probably the worst time of the year, so I figured I may as well write the queens in the supermarket during the season, since there’s plenty of inspiration

Bianca was not a morning person, which is why it had always confused her as to why she had the opening shift most days. She hated opening the doors, and putting on the radio, and making sure everything was in order. Worst of all, she hated dealing with the customers in the early morning who were either hungover or half asleep or both, the customers who would ask where to find frozen peas while she stood in the freezer aisle.

Idiots, she thought, every single one of them.

Although there was one person who Bianca could stand, which was odd, as Bianca prided herself on being better than everyone else. Every morning she would come in, eye makeup smudged halfway down her face where she clearly hadn’t removed it from the wild night before, with giant bags under her eyes. She’d stopped asking where to find the Berocca now, but the green-haired girl would always stop at Bianca’s checkout before trudging to grab her single bottle.

It had almost become a routine. Bianca would open the store, and almost precisely five minutes later, the green haired girl would stagger in, smile at Bianca, then make her purchase. And today was no exception.

“I love your reindeer ears,” said the girl.  
Bianca rolled her eyes at the comment towards the headband she’d been forced to wear. “Really queen? You want to judge me in the state you’re in?”  
“I’m not in a state. I just had a slightly late night.”  
“You look like a mess. Do you have a home? A job? A name?”  
“Party,” the girl responded, grabbing her Berocca, and sauntering off. “And I do have a name. Adore Delano. Follow my Instagram.”  
••••  
“Sharon,” said Phi Phi, her voice coming dangerously close to snapping. “Put on the goddamned hat,” she said, using her best customer service voice, attempting to control the exasperation she felt. Sharon raised an eyebrow and responded through a half smile that was more of a challenge than a smile. “No.”  
Phi Phi bunched the Santa hat in her outstretched hand into a fist and quickly counted to three, inhaling deeply.   
“You have to wear it, it’s Christmas, all the staff have to wear a festive costume. Trust me, I hate it just as much as you do,” she said, attempting to make her tone seem reasonable. Sharon grabbed the hat and for a fleeting second Phi Phi thought she’d won.

Instead, Sharon opened her hand and dropped the polyester hat into the trash can next to her.  
“I need you to wear the hat Sharon! It reflects badly on me if you don’t,” hissed Phi Phi, feeling the vein on her neck pulse.  
“You can’t always get what you want, can you?” replied Sharon. “Tough luck.”

Gritting her teeth, Phi Phi figured the best way to spite the new employee would be to make her life hell for the next five hours. “Just go. You’re on lane 7.”  
“That one’s conveyer doesn’t work,” complained Sharon.  
“What a shame. You can’t always get what you want can you?” responded Phi Phi, smirking, and she turned to reopen her checkout. She served a balding middle aged man and as she threw out the unwanted receipt she saw Sharon still standing to her right, this time with the Santa hat perched rakishly on her head, in an obvious attempt to still look cool while wearing the costume.

Phi Phi had to admit, red was a god colour on Sharon. The spot of colour against the creamy skin and dark uniform was not unappealing, and Phi Phi found herself becoming a little distracted by the other.  
“Can I please not have lane 7,” asked Sharon, “I don’t want to deal with that conveyer.” Phi Phi blushed, and sighed, a half smile on her face.  
“Take 6 then.”  
Sharon’s eyes widened in surprise, and she smiled toothily at Phi Phi, her relief at not having the dodgy till outweighing the hatred she felt to the job.   
“Thank you so much,” said Sharon as she picked up the till and went over to her register, Phi Phi watching her go the whole way.  
••••  
Pearl struggled down the aisle, wincing at the squeaky trolley’s wheel screaming on the floor. Crossing the final item off the extensive list she’d been given she cursed her mother for making her do the shopping. Heaving the trolley in a u-turn, knocking off a couple of cans of tinned tomatoes of the shelf, she steered the trolley into Violet’s checkout, the location of which she already knew from walking past it a bunch of times, trying to be surreptitious.

“Hi, how are you today?”  
“I’m good thanks,” mumbled Pearl, not making eye contact.  
“It’s Pearl right?” asked Violet.  
“I’m sorry?”  
“Your name, it’s Pearl right?”  
“Oh, yeah.”  
“Sorry, you’re just here so often I feel like we’ve kind of gotten to know each other without saying too much.”  
Pearl made a noncommittal noise, and they lapsed into silence punctuated by the beep of a new item being scanned.

“Sorry about all the stuff,” she said, gesticulating at the packed conveyer, “my mother made me go out and get everything and honestly it’s been the worst day of my life.”  
“Are you in charge of Christmas lunch?” asked the cashier.  
“Oh god no, I’d have no idea where to even start with all this!” Pearl replies, her heart beginning to beat faster at the conversation she was maintaining. “What about you?”  
Violet sighs before responding. “I don’t really do the whole Christmas lunch celebration thing. I guess a bunch of friends and I will just go out to a club or something.” She smiled almost wickedly. “If you’re bored with your family you should come along.”

Pearl laughs, but inside her internal monologue is just screaming. Had Violet just asked her out? She knew it wasn’t helpful, but she’d already begun imagining possible ways she could sneak out of lunch, and meet up with Violet and her friends.

Stop, she thought, scanning her credit card. You can’t just ditch your family on Christmas.

But looking back as she struggled out of the store, she could see how she just might be able to find the motivation to.   
••••  
At any time during the year, the deli counter was manageable. There was a decent amount of staff, and demand was relatively constant. Willam could use the words “under control”, which were usually not common words for her.

Christmas however brought out a strange side of humanity. Not only had most of her staff called in “sick” or gone away, it seemed as though every single inhabitant on the town and the neighbouring state wanted a ham or a turkey or a lamb roast. It was safe to say control had gone out the window quite a while ago.

Usually Willam could handle Christmas season, but with only one other staff member, her best friend Alaska, Willam felt like she was drowning this year.

“Babe I need to take a break,” said Alaska during a brief lull of customers. “I’ve been flat out all day, please can I have ten minutes?”  
“I don’t know if I can deal on my own for long. People are savages right now,” replied Willam.  
“I know, and I’m sorry,” responded Alaska, “but can you get anyone else?”  
Willam scanned the store, seeing all the checkout staff busy, although Violet seemed to be flirting with a customer, as usual. The only person available in the store made Willam’s heart sink. Courtney.

“Courtney’s not busy. Get her to help,” suggested Alaska, waving her over.  
“Um sugar no. One, she’s a vegan, we work in the meat department. Two, we hate each other. Not going to happen.”  
“Hatred is fuelled by secret burning passion,” responded Alaska, smirking.  
“You’re delusional,” responded Willam, rolling her eyes as Courtney made her way over to the deli counter.

“What’s up?” she asked in her Australian accent.  
“We’re flooded here, I need a break, can you step in for a sec,” responded Alaska. Courtney raised an eyebrow, and Willam shot Alaska an I-told-you-so look.  
“Sure, what do you need?” responded Courtney, surprising Willam, “I mean if I could not touch the meat that’d be good but I can do the till if that works.”  
Willam didn’t have to look at Alaska to know there was an I-told-you-so look now directed at her.  
“You’re a lifesaver Court,” Alaska said as she ducked out from behind the counter.

“You really are,” said Willam after a period of silence as the barricade of humans looking for their Christmas dinner approached. “A lifesaver, I mean.”  
“I wasn’t going to see you struggle on your own,” said Courtney, not looking at Willam. “Plus Alaska really needed that break.”  
Willam smiled, and as she reached for the next ham she looked at Courtney and didn’t take her eyes off the other blonde as she wrapped the meat.

Goddamnit. Maybe Alaska was right.  
••••  
“You know, Mariah Carey has a lovely voice and all,” remarked Katya, as All I Want For Christmas began playing through the empty store for the third time that night, “but if I have to hear her tell me there’s just one thing she needs one more time, I’m going to shove an entire box of candy canes up her arse.”  
“So like a normal December Saturday evening for you,” responded Trixie.  
Katya laughed throatily, and Trixie’s heart skipped a beat, proud that she’d been able to make Katya laugh.

“Seriously though,” said the Russian, pulling on one of her ratty blonde pigtails. “Why do they feel the need to blast the same ten Christmas carols on repeat? Like we get it Christmas is coming, now shut up!”  
“Aw don’t you like them,” responded Trixie, “don’t you want to get festive?”  
Katya stopped, and looked Trixie.   
“There’s nothing wrong with being ‘festive’,” she responded, putting air quotation marks around the phrase, “but it’s ridiculous the way they just blast them over and over. Give it half an hour and you’ll be complaining too sugar.”  
Trixie shrugged in response. “Probably.”  
“Because the carols you hear, aren’t always that new,” shot back Katya, giggling hysterically at her own joke.

Trixie just rolled her eyes, but smiled, and wondered how she’d become so attached to this crazy woman.


	3. Chapter 3

The early morning sunlight filtered through the window, lighting up the dust mites mottling the air. Bianca turned her phone on and off, counting down the minutes until she could open the large roller doors at the front of the store and let the day’s customers in.

She glanced out the window, and noticed that the car park was abnormally empty. Usually, the car park on a Saturday morning would be a third full, today there was a red ute and and a bike propped up against a tree. Groaning, she leaned her head on the wall. It would be a slow day, and that kind of day was the worst.

Slow days meant customers thinking they could have long conversations with her just because there was no one else in the queue, which made it hard to bite back the cutting remarks that often rolled off her tongue. It was a little mantra Bianca had. The customer is never right.

Her phone buzzed on the till, signalling it was time for the store to open. Unlocking the heavy bolt she heaved the roller up and returned to her till, and tapped her acrylic nails on the bench. The store was empty, which wasn’t abnormal, but Bianca had gotten used to one little thing. Adore.

Since their last meeting, Bianca had indeed checked out Adore’s Instagram, as well as every other social media account she could find. She’d almost fallen into the habit of expecting the green haired girl in the early morning. Rolling her eyes at herself, she ceased her tapping as an elderly man entered the store.

A few minutes later, the sliding doors opened with a faint puff of air, and Adore rushed through them, obviously in a hurry. Only stopping to give Bianca a quick hello, she disappeared into the aisles, only to reappear holding her drink.

“Sorry I’m in a rush,” she said, too loudly, “I have work soon but I overslept and was late here-”  
“Hold up,” responded Bianca, “you have a job? Isn’t your job getting drunk and being the pretty little indie musician you are?”  
“Well, yes,” said Adore, “but that doesn’t pay for petrol, so I work as a receptionist down the road. I go from here to work, and it just so happens that today I was due to start five minutes ago. So sorry to be like this but see ya Bianca.”  
And then she was gone, the coins for the drink left in a little pile on the counter.

Picking them up and putting them into the till, Bianca looked once again out the front window, at Adore’s retreating figure, and the very slow trickle of people coming in through the doors. She realised she was grumpy, and she was grumpy because she hadn’t gotten to talk to Adore that morning.

Smiling to herself as an idea popped into her head, she left her till, and went and grabbed a bottle of Berocca. In no particular hurry, she returned, and tucked the drink just under her counter.

That gives you plenty of time to talk to Adore tomorrow, thought Bianca, her stomach fluttering a little in anticipation.  
••••  
“Do you even see the point of having a break today?” asked Courtney stormed into the staffroom. Willam shrunk a little into her chair. Although they always had breaks at the same time, Courtney never really spoke to Willam, except to maybe toss a weak insult. Despite the friendliness Courtney had showed just a few weeks earlier it had all dissipated over New Years.

“Well,” quipped Willam, “the demand for fresh fruit and vegetables stops for no man.”  
Courtney turned, wide eyed. “But it has!” she exclaimed violently. “The store’s practically empty.”

Willam had noticed that. There had been fewer price checks, fewer people at the deli counter, fewer jobs to do. It had been great, in Willam’s opinion, but for someone obsessed with their work like Courtney, Willam could understand how the busy days could be curses.

“Well if you want something to do you can always clean the fridge or something.”  
Courtney’s nose wrinkled. “I don’t know the last time this thing was cleaned,” she said gesturing to the fridge. “I don’t use it, ever since people started eating my food out of it.”  
Willam swallowed, knowing that she had been one of the people who had eaten Courtney’s salads and smoothies when they had first started appearing in the communal fridge.

“I mean,” said Courtney, the fridge door now open, “I don’t know if this gnocchi has pesto on it, or if the green stuff is mould,” she continued, brandishing a Tupperware container with some sketchy looking pasta inside. Willam grimaced.

Shutting the fridge with a bang, Courtney slumped back down into another plastic chair.   
“This sucks,” she said. A long pause ensued. Willam recrossed her ankles, and waited.

The awkward pause stretched on.

“So…” she said, trying to relieve the tension that was thick enough to be cut with a knife. “Why did you go vegan?”   
Courtney’s delicate eyebrow raised.   
“That’s heavy for small talk.”  
“It is?” asked Willam, mentally kicking herself.  
“Look, there’s a lot of factors, I guess I just didn’t like the connotations meat and all that had. I don’t like the idea of something being harmed just for me.”  
Willam nodded, and Courtney checked her watch, then sighed. “I’m supposed to receive a call soon,” she said, apologetically, “see you later.”

She left, Willam watching her go pensively, wondering at the change that had occurred between them.  
••••  
“Is there any point me being here right now?” asked Sharon.  
“What do you mean?” asked Phi Phi.  
In the past few weeks Phi Phi had found that Sharon had mellowed a bit, turning from hatred and contempt to everything in the store, including Phi Phi, to just general dislike of the job.  
“I mean, no one’s here, no one’s going to be here and if they are, you and Violet can deal with them easily,” said Sharon. “I don’t need to be here.”  
“You’re getting paid,” Phi Phi reminded her.  
“Yeah for doing nothing. I could be doing something I actually want to be doing.”  
Phi Phi leaned forward on her till. “What do you want to do?”  
“Like right now-”  
“Nah not now. What would you prefer doing with your life. What’s your endgame?”

“I don’t really know for sure, but I want to sing and I want to travel and I want to spend my time before I have to be an adult actually enjoying myself, not stuck in a box, waiting for customers that aren’t going to come.”  
Phi Phi nodded. “That’s good, you know that you have passion I guess.”  
“Everyone does, what are you passionate about?”  
“I-I’m doing a law degree at the moment,” she responded after a pause.  
“But it’s not what you want to do is it ”  
“Well, no.”  
“So what do you want to do?”

Phi Phi hated this conversation, she normally would weasel out of it with some half hearted excuse about law was her passion, but for some reason she found herself telling Sharon.  
“I want to go into fashion design,” she said, her voice low.  
To her surprise, Sharon didn’t laugh or snicker as she’d expected her to, instead she nodded her head.  
“That’s cool. I reckon you’d be good at it.”  
“My parents don’t want me to,” said Phi Phi, “they-”  
“Who cares what your parents say,” responded Sharon, twisting a ring around her finger. “Do what you want, it’s your life isn’t it?”  
Phi Phi turned to respond, but was stopped by a group of teenagers queuing at her till. She smiled at Sharon, and lifted up her closed sign.

As she turned to the customers at her till, Phi Phi’s mind was racing with dangerous questions. Why don’t I quit my degree? What’s stopping me from design?

Why does Sharon’s opinion matter so much to me?  
••••  
Violet was bored out of her mind. Her shift, which had started around two hours ago, had inched on slower than she’d ever known time to pass. Rather than serving customers, she’d spent the majority of the time picking at her nail polish and planning her schedule for the next week. She was contemplating sitting on the floor and taking a quick power nap, when a woman came into her line of sight and placed a basket of groceries and a reusable bag on the conveyer with a heavy thud.

Looking around the store, Violet could see the store was getting busy - or at least as busy as it could be. She also spotted a familiar head of blonde hair headed toward her till, and her heart skipped a beat.

“Hello?” asked the lady in front of her. “Can I get some service?”  
Violet apologised profusely, and began to scan items as quickly as possible, because there was now a blonde figure cloaked in layers waiting patiently. Violet sent a half smile at Pearl, and was pleased to see she had received one back.

After what felt like far too long, Violet finally handed the lady her receipt, and turned to Pearl.  
“‘Sup,” said the blonde.  
“Hey Pearl,” responded Violet. “How are you?”  
“I’ve been going well thanks,” said Pearl and they both chuckled at the awkward formality between them. Violet scanned Pearl’s groceries languidly, in an attempt to stretch out what was sure to be the highlight of her shift. She was about to ask if Pearl was doing anything that evening, when her register let out a long beep, and the screen turned completely black.

Shit, she thought, searching behind the register for the on button, thinking the can of tomatoes in her hand had knocked it. Pressing on the button, the screen stayed black.

Very slowly, but surely, people were lining up behind Pearl, and the line was slowly stretching further into the store.

Shit, she thought again, banging her till with her hand, shaking the screen desperately trying to get the till to work again.   
Supervisor to lane 4,“ she called over the PA, hoping Phi Phi would be able to come and sort out the situation, but the supervisor just shook her head sympathetically as she gestured at the queue trailing from express.

Of course the one time the till breaks it gets busy, thought Violet.  
“Is everything alright?” asked Pearl, eyes wide with concern.   
“Yeah, um my monitor’s just having a moment,” replied Violet, watching the queue. Banging it one more time with her fist, the screen flickered back on, showing the can of tomatoes had been scanned 75 times. Groaning, Violet called Phi Phi again, knowing she’d never be able to void such a large amount without the supervisor code.

After everything had been sorted out, and Pearl was finally paying for her things, she said, “sorry to be such a problem today.”  
Instantly Violet responded, “you’re not a problem, it’s good to see you,” cringing at how she sounded. Pearl smiled, and flushed a small amount, although it could have just been a trick of the light.   
“It’s good to see you too. Enjoy the rest of your shift Vi,” she said as she walked off.

“Why am I not a supervisor yet?” asked Violet, as she handed her till to Phi Phi at the end of her shift. “I’m one of the best workers here.”  
Phi Phi snorted. “Maybe it has something to do with the fact you keep flirting with certain customers,” she responded, laughter in her voice.  
Violet smirked. “What’s the difference between flirting with a customer and flirting with the new employee.”  
Violet felt a sharp sense of satisfaction at Phi Phi’s mouth dropping open. “I’m…not…” she stuttered.

Just at that moment, Sharon walked back in to the store on break, looking stormy. Phi Phi went a deep shade of red. Violet chuckled as she pranced out the door.   
••••  
“Do you want to catch up sometime outside the calming fluorescent lights of this supermarket?” Katya asked half an hour before they closed the store, “like go to Chipotle or something?”  
“Will you pay for my guacamole?”  
“Bitch who do you think I am? I work minimum wage at a supermarket!”  
Trixie laughed loudly, and responded, “but seriously that’d be great. I’ll just double check I’m not going out with my boyfriend or anything and I’ll text you.” She smiled at Katya but the blonde’s face had fallen a tiny, almost imperceptible amount.   
“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend?”  
“Yeah, it’s um kind of new,” responded Trixie. She felt suddenly awkward for some reason, her insides knotting with a strange emotion that she quickly recognised. Dread. “It’s not a big deal is it?”

Katya’s face lit up again, a goofy smile stretching from one ear to the other. “No of course not.” Though her tone and face was cheerful enough, Trixie couldn’t help feeling as though there was something off about the whole expression. Come on Trixie, she thought, you’re allowed to have a boyfriend. If Katya can’t get over that it’s her fault.  
“What else are you keeping from me? Next you’re going to tell me your entire family is actually the mafia’s founders!”  
“Well, now my secret’s out you rotted Gila monster.”

Trixie laughed, thankful for the relieve, though there was still something dark and uneasy in Katya’s eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

“No ma’am I cannot give you a refund on this opened packet of crackers, especially with no receipt and half of the crackers mentioned missing. I’m sorry about that,” Bianca told a particularly obstinate woman, giving her a look that said you-are-an-absolute-pain-in-the-arse-and-please-get-out-my-vicinity-before-I-yell-at-you. The lady retreated, grumbling about poor customer service while Bianca rolled her heavily lined eyes and the young checkout operator working alongside her smiled sympathetically.

“Customers suck don’t they?” she said, tossing her black hair over a shoulder, having heard the entire exchange. Bianca saw her name was Violet from her name tag.  
“God, most of them,” responded Bianca, rolling her eyes again. “There’s one or two that make me smile though.”  
Bianca noticed the corners of Violet’s twitch upwards at that, and her eyes became a little softer, as if she’d just remembered something. Bianca raised an eyebrow.  
“What’s that expression for?” she asked.  
Violet flushed a pale red, and her closed expression returned.  
“Does someone have a little crush on a customer?” teased Bianca in a sing-song voice, and the colour in Violet’s face deepened.  
“N-no,” she stammered. “Some of them are just nice.”  
Bianca smirked. “Nice to look at you mean?”  
Violet shrugged and tilted her head to the side. “Yeah,” she conceded.  
Bianca snickered and Violet looked indignant. “It’s just one, and yeah, she’s pretty and has the loveliest hair ever, I just like talking to her because she’s super chill and actually listens to me and is nice. I most certainly don’t have a crush on her.”  
“Sounds a little like you do,” responded Bianca, seeing right through what was obviously a lie.  
“So you can’t empathise?” asked Violet, a challenge almost, not a question.  
“No, I cannot. Because unlike you, I have never fallen in love with a customer,” responded Bianca.  
Violet was nearly shouting now. “I am not in love with any-“ She broke off suddenly as a tall blonde tentatively placed her basket on Violet’s conveyer, Violet’s eyes widening in surprise.  
“Hey Pearl,” she said, a little breathlessly.

Chuckling to herself at Violet’s foolishness and denial, Bianca turned away, and locked eyes with Adore, entering the door, who raised her hand and wiggled her fingers in a lazy wave. Bianca’s stomach jumped.

“Adore!” she called out, the green haired girl turning her way in surprise. Bianca idly noted she needed to get her roots redone. Bianca held up the bottle of Berocca and wiggled it in the air. Adore smiled and made her way to the express lane, hurdling a barrier in order to get there.  
“You’re not supposed to jump the barrier,” Bianca said automatically and Adore grinned.  
“'Kay,” she responded. “Why’d you keep this at the checkout?”  
“Didn’t want a repeat of yesterday where I didn’t get to talk to you,” responded Bianca, fake pouting.  
“Yeah that sucked man,” responded Adore.

They were both quiet for a second, before Adore spoke again, after checking her phone. “Well I’ve got seven minutes before I need to leave, tell me something fun.”

+++

Violet’s insides were twisting with embarrassment as she greeted Pearl, hoping she hadn’t heard the conversation that she’d been having with Bianca seconds before. In all fairness, she had been screaming, fairly loudly she had to admit.

It was no secret Violet liked to be in control. Everything in her life, she lived with control over, she prided herself on that. But for some weird reason, her weird quasi-friendship with Pearl had her feeling out of control. And she was too proud to admit it to anyone, especially Bianca, that there was a tiny part of her that liked Pearl in that way. Even the thought of it, made her want to cringe. Violet was powerful, she had dreams. She was not someone who got distracted by other girls, or who pined after the moments they would come in and make her shift a little bit brighter.

Yet here she was.

Pearl was standing in front of her a little uneasily, and with every passing second Violet could feel some sort of weird tension build between them. Crap, she thought, she heard me didn’t she?

“Right,” she said, smiling, “how are you today?” The tension that had been building crumbled a little, and Pearl smiled back at her.  
“I’m good, sorry, I’m a little out of it today,” Pearl responded.  
Violet laughed, and they were back as they usually were, laughing, joking and chatting like good friends. Not a hint of tension.

In a small part of her mind Violet acknowledged that she really needed to get a handle on the feelings that were pooling up in her stomach. She knew it wasn’t healthy to dwell on the fact that the two literally knew nothing about the other, yet they felt as close as old friends.

Violet felt like she was going to burst.

“See ya then,” said Pearl, all too soon, and Violet hated the fact that she wished Pearl had bought more just so she could have stayed chatting longer.  
“Have a good day Pearl,” responded Violet, waving as she passed over the receipt. Pearl left, not throwing a second glance over her shoulder, but Violet remained with her eyes locked on the retreating head of blonde hair.

The automatic doors shut behind Pearl with a snap, pulling Violet’s gaze from the blonde girl. She glanced at Bianca, who was watching the girl with green hair saunter out the store, with the same expression that Violet was pretty sure she had been wearing just moments before. Violet snorted, and Bianca turned with a start, to see Violet’s smirking face.

“You really don’t empathise with me?” asked Violet.

In response, Bianca turned a deep pink. “If you tell anyone I will come to your house at night and cut off all your hair and weave it into an ornamental throw rug.”

Violet laughed loudly.

+++

“Can I tell you something Phi Phi?” asked Sharon in between customers as they stood together at express.  
“Yeah, of course,” responded the shorter girl, running her hands through her newly blue streaked hair. She’d taken the plunge a week ago after Sharon had almost convinced her to apply for a fashion course, before deciding her parents would be a lot gentler on her if she did something that wasn’t going to change their idea of a perfect daughter.  
“I’m quitting at the end of my shift.”

Phi Phi couldn’t respond, opting instead to simply and openly stare at the white blond girl next to her.  
“You’re what?”  
“Quitting,” responded Sharon, simply. “This isn’t what I want to do.”  
“But your dad- “  
“He can get over himself,” shrugged Sharon. “If he really wants me to work here, he can work here himself.”  
Phi Phi gaped. “Like two weeks’ notice?”  
Sharon smiled. “Effective immediately.”  
“Damn.” Phi Phi let out a low whistle. She knew Michelle, the store’s manager, hated sudden staffing breaks. If she’d been yelled at for pulling out of a shift with not enough notice, God knows what she’d do to someone straight up saying they were leaving. Eat them alive probably.

Then again this was Sharon she’d be up against.

More than that, Phi Phi thought, she’d miss working with Sharon. Most of the time Sharon was bored, sarcastic and didn’t want to be there, which clashed with Phi Phi’s attitude sometimes, but Phi Phi would miss the times when there was a lull in customers when Sharon seemed to drop her attitude a tiny little bit. And maybe, just maybe she’d miss having Sharon standing opposite her for five hours a day. Sharon might be the bane of Phi Phi’s existence sometimes, but Phi Phi couldn’t deny she was straight up gorgeous.

“You all good there?” asked Sharon, jolting Phi Phi out of her reverie.  
“Huh? Yeah, I was just thinking,” responded Sharon  
“Aww, are you going to miss me Phi Phi?” teased Sharon, raising her voice in an annoying sing-song way.  
“No!” exclaimed Phi Phi loudly. “I’m already planning the party I’m going to throw once you’ve left,” she joked.  
“I’ll miss you,” said Sharon, her voice low, a quiet contrast to Phi Phi’s outburst. Phi Phi looked over, slightly stunned. She didn’t think Sharon particularly liked her. They had a relationship that was essentially based on I-really-don’t-care-for-you-but-we-both-hate-the-bloody-customers-more-so-lets-chill.  
“Really?” Phi Phi’s own voice was also now no more than a whisper. She cleared her throat, cringing inwardly at how sappy she sounded.

“Yeah Phi, you’re a real laugh sometimes. Probably the only good thing about working in this place.”  
Phi Phi smiled against her will, and pushed down the thoughts she’d been having about Sharon for weeks now. Thoughts of maybe, possibly, if she did ask Sharon about a relationship if something would ever work. It was purely hypothetical of course. Sharon and I will never be a thing. Stop right now Phi Phi, she thought. But those thoughts didn’t stop her from hoping.

+++

It was 4pm, which meant the staff room was packed with day staff all trying to log off and go home. Willam had already clocked off, and had just gotten out of Michelle’s office, and was now leaning against the lockers waiting for Courtney to come through so she could talk to her.

She saw her blonde head appear in the crowd, and she kept her eyes on the other girl, watching as she scanned her fingerprint and logged her time.  
“Courtney!” she yelled attempting to get the other blonde’s attention. Failing, she looked around as Courtney started to leave the room, trying to figure out a way to get across the room to talk to Courtney. Her eyes alighted on a chair next to the lockers, and without really thinking about what she was doing, she mounted it, and banged on the locker next to her, creating a metallic reverb that clanged through the room. Courtney turned to see her, as did every other worker in the staff room.  
“Courtney!” she yelled a second time, trailing off a little under the glare of the others in the room. She smiled widely at Courtney who just looked mortified and jerked her head, indication Willam should come talk to her outside. Smiling, Willam hopped down from the chair and

The afternoon sun was low in the sky, and it threw a buttery orange filter over the carpark, making it romantic, almost beautiful WIllam thought. Courtney was standing next to the ticket machine, hair reflecting the rays of sunlight. Pretty, she thought.  
Courtney caught Willam’s eye and approached, hands on her hips. “So what was that palava in there about?”  
“I thought it was pretty clever-“  
“Everyone saw you.”  
“I got your attention,” Willam shrugged.  
Courtney rolled her eyes. “Yes. You did. I’m here. What do you want?”  
“I wanted to let you know that as of today, I will no longer be working in conjunction with you.”

Courtney’s eyes widened. God that’s cute, thought Willam, shaking her head at herself for her thoughts.  
“You’re quitting?”  
“No, sadly, I will not be working in conjunction with you as meat manager.” Willam paused dramatically. “As I am transferring to the dairy department.”  
Courtney’s eyebrows knitted. “And you thought to tell me this because?”  
“Because we’re friends!” Seeing Courtney raise an eyebrow she added “kind of. Also your little chat last week about you being vegan inspired me a little.”  
“You do realise as a vegan I still don’t do dairy,” responded Courtney, face blank.  
“Yeah but for me you’d make an exception wouldn’t you,” smirked Willam. Winking at Courtney’s shocked face, Willam turned on her heel to saunter over to her car.

“That’s inappropriate!” yelled Courtney as Willam got into her car. “I’ll report you!”  
“No you won’t!” Willam yelled back through the open window, blowing a kiss and driving off, leaving Courtney alone in the afternoon sun, smiling a little bit to herself.

+++

Over the past few months, Trixie had gotten into a routine at work. She would turn up five minutes early precisely, scan in and take over from Kim at express. She would wait there, maybe serving a customer or two, until Katya would rush through the door, between five and ten minutes late. Trixie knew this routine well, which was why she was confused that it had been twenty-five minutes with no sign of Katya, and Kim still on express.

“Where’s Katya tonight?” she asked Kim, after another couple of minutes ticked past, worried that something had happened, envisioning a car pretzelled around a tree, or a maniacal stabber, or something very bad. Katya was often late, but never this late  
“Oh didn’t you realise,” responded Kim, “there’s been a bunch of shifts shuffled around.”  
“What? How come?”  
“Um, some people wanted to work different shifts, so some other people moved to accommodate them.”  
“You wanted to work the closing shift?” asked Trixie incredulously.  
Kim shuffled a little bit looking awkward. Trixie normally loved that Kim was transparent enough to always know what she was thinking, but right now she wished she could truly believe that Katya wasn’t there because Kim had a deep desire to work the closing shift.

“Katya wanted to move?” she asked quietly, disbelief colouring her tone.  
“I’m so sorry,“ said Kim, gently, “I know you guys were good friends, I’m sure she had a reason though.” She trailed off a little, and the two lapsed into silence.

Katya doesn’t want to talk to me, she thought, and she mentally scanned through conversations she’d had recently, and found nothing that she thought could cause the Russian to want to avoid her. Pulling out her rhinestone encrusted phone she flicked a quick text off to Katya.

To Russian Whore: Heyyyy

To Russian Whore: Where u at? Kim said you wanted to switch shifts x

“She wouldn’t be avoiding me would she?” asked Trixie tentatively.  
Kim shrugged, “I mean you are the worst person I’ve ever met,” she joked, “but maybe she just didn’t want to work here so late.”  
Trixie made a noncommittal noise, knowing that wasn’t the case. Katya had often said she like the night, because there was no one either on earth or in heaven above she would get out of bed before 10am for.

She checked her phone. Read 9.42pm.

To Russian Whore: Did you turn read receipts on just so you could leave me on seen?

Another read receipt popped up and the three little dots started flashing at the edge of her screen, and Trixie breathed a sigh of relief, though she instantly wished she could take it back, as the message simply read.

From Russian Whore: Out on a date. Pls don’t text atm, phone’s turned off

Trixie stared at her phone until the screen autolocked and she was staring at her dismal reflection in the black screen. It doesn’t matter, she thought, Katya’s allowed to have her life.

Her phone buzzed with a snapchat notification, she opened it to see a snap from Kim from a couple of tills over.

From Kim Chi <3: Stop being sad!!!!

She chuckled, and saw Kim smile out of the corner of her eye, before turning to serve a tall, long legged customer purchasing a packet of gnocchi. Trixie was about to turn her phone off for the night, when she noticed the purple notification, showing someone had updated their story. More to get rid of the notification than out of actual interest she flicked over to the Story tab. It was Katya’s story, and Trixie’s thumb hesitated over the story before she opened it. It consisted of three snaps: the first a snap of Katya in her bathroom, evidently getting ready for her date, the second a video of Katya dancing with a girl with long messy blonde hair whom Trixie recognised from the meat department, with a heart eyes emoji overlaying. Trixie tapped the screen and bile rose in her throat at an image of Katya and the other blonde in a deep embrace, attached at the lips, at the hips. Trixie shut off her phone instantly as she felt her stomach sink so far through the floor she thought it was looking to begin an independent oil drilling venture.

In a flash, Trixie remembered the conversation they’d had a few nights ago, where Trixie had mentioned her boyfriend, and Katya had become oddly closed off. Trixie wasn’t the most emotionally sensitive, but she had definitely felt a weird kind of tension in the air between them in the recent weeks before that conversation – something more than friends, the kind of flirting that you did with your friends but sort of – different. Trixie couldn’t quite explain it. It still didn’t explain why Katya would try to cut her out of her life, not unless –

Trixie gasped audibly as she realized what had really been in front of her the whole time.

Katya liked her. Like, liked liked her.

That explains the petty snaps, she thought. But she needs to deal with the rejection. I have a boyfriend.

But she still felt an inexplicable hurt and, for some reason, jealousy at the idea of Katya making out with someone else. She shook her head a little.

God, why do you even care Tracy? she thought.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is it! This is the final chapter because I feel like the story has run its course and is getting a bit disjointed, so hopefully in this chapter all the plot lines get a resolution. 
> 
> (also I should have done this ages ago but a massive thank you to my beta Scoobert [check out her stuff on aq] for being patient with my 4am messages about me yelling about how I did not want to write. You're the best babe)

Trixie knew this was a really awkward move, turning up in the mid afternoon, during the shift she knew Katya had taken, and had anyone done it to her she probably would have asked them to leave instantly. But she was a disgusting hypocrite after all, so it stood to reason that she could rock up and start filling a basket with groceries.  
   
She wasn’t entirely sure if Katya had seen her as she’d walked in, but she was doing this here and now. If Katya was going to ignore her in every other way she really left Trixie no choice but to confront her face to face. Trixie was nothing if not stubborn. Basket sufficiently filled, Trixie smoothed down her pale pink jacket and made her way to the lane Katya stood behind, tapping languidly on her phone. She looked up as Trixie approached and ducked below the counter, putting her closed sign up.  
   
Trixie rolled her eyes. “Katya, I know you’re there, come out and scan my groceries.”  
Slowly, Katya’s head emerged from below the conveyer belt, a mess of backcombed braids and tangles haphazardly piled upon each other and held by pins, hairspray and the will of a higher power. She looked Trixie directly in the eyes through deep black rimmed eyes, and reluctantly pulled Trixie’s basket towards her, not breaking the eye contact. It made Trixie a little uncomfortable, but she held her ground.  
   
Once the first few items had been scanned and bagged in a stony silence, Trixie went for her attack.  
“Also can we talk about why you’re ignoring me?”  
The bag of macaroni Katya had been holding dropped from her hands, landing in the bagging area.  
“I’m not ignoring you,” she responded, holding her head high, though the macaroni she’d just retrieved shook a little due to her evidently trembling hands.  
“You are, and then there was the whole thing with the other day,” Trixie responded, the image of Katya’s red lips mixing with the messy haired blonde’s flashing before her eyes.  
“Alaska? Yeah, that was, um…” Katya trailed off.  
“You were trying to make me jealous weren’t you,” shot back Trixie, feeling her palms sweating, hoping desperately she was right. Nevertheless, she saw Katya flash an awkward smile at no one, a sure sign she was admitting something bad she’d done, so Trixie soldiered on.   
 _Why tiptoe into hell when you can backflip into a cannonball?_ she thought.  
“Because you like me and you wanted something to happen.”  
   
“Me? Like you? Like that? You’ve gotta be joking,” snorted Katya, slipping into her Maureen voice “that’s called wishful thinking.”  
“Look, I think we’re both pretty aware it’s not a joke,” responded Trixie  
“Yeah,” shrugged Katya, the Russian’s resolve crumbling before her to Trixie’s surprise. She had thought Katya would fight her a little more than she had. “Yeah we do. But what’s the point, you’ve got your boyfriend and I’ve got myself?”  
Trixie cut off Katya with a low voice. “Not anymore.”“I- What?” Katya had started off firey, but seemed to switch into confusion almost instantly, brows furrowing creating a little crease in the middle of her forehead.  
“My boyfriend and I broke up,” said Trixie tiredly, rubbing a hand down her face. “It’s been a long time coming, but we broke up just the other day. If that was what was holding you back there’s nothing there anymore. But it’s your choice I guess.”  
She turned away, as her card accepted, picking up her bag and making her way toward the exit, tears threatening to fall. She’d told herself from the start she’d let Katya have the final decision. And she’d stick to her word.  
   
“Trixie!” she turned to see Katya hurdle the barrier holding her inside her aisle, and run towards her. “I’m so sorry, I’ve been so dumb and immature about this.”  
Out of the corner of her eye, Trixie saw the supervisor glance at the two of them and back to Katya’s unattended aisle. She looked back at Katya and pulled the shorter girl into a tight hug, resting her head upon the other’s shoulder.  
“My break’s in fifteen minutes,” Katya’s soft whisper tickles her ear, and she smiles into Katya’s neck.  
“Okay, and?”  
“See you in the storeroom. We can talk, and do other stuff.”  
“At work? That’s a little kinky Brenda.”  
“Oh just the way I like it,” responds Katya, letting Trixie go, the two of them smiling like idiots.  
   
+++  
Violet had done a lot of mulling since talking to Bianca. She had spent a fair number of hours wallowing in the beautiful state of contemplating one’s feelings, and the dangerous land of “what-if”. She usually never let herself contemplate what  _could_  happen if she let someone in, if she let them see who she was, if she gave them the opportunity to love her. She usually pulled herself out of that mindset as soon as possible because it made it near impossible to remove someone from her life, even if they hadn’t gotten in. Violet’s hypothetical worlds were extensive and intense. She tried to project the image of an uncaring, cold dominanatrix, but that was to hide the reality that peoples’ feelings didn’t roll off her, rather they affected her in ridiculous ways, she soaked up every shred of attention like a sponge.  
   
But then again, what she had felt for Pearl wasn’t unique. Violet would never admit it, because of her bitch façade, but she fell often. Hard. She was in two minds, trying to convince herself that Pearl wasn’t just another pretty face that she’d fuck once or twice then never see again, and another voice that told her predicament was exactly the same as every other one she’d been in. They’d go on a couple of dates, change their Facebook statuses before realising Violet was way in over her head falling hard while the other party simply didn’t care.  
   
It was draining keeping up appearances, pretending that she didn’t care when everyone inevitably moved on.  
   
And that was why she told herself she wasn’t going to lead Pearl on, she’d avoid the girl, stop the flirty smiles. Stop the warmth that pulled her insides into crazy shapes, stop the urge to keep the conversation going just a few seconds. She decided all this in the morning before her shift as she pulled on the work shirt, and painted her face with meticulous strokes.  
   
 _So why,_ she asked herself, as she went to close the cash drawer as Pearl left her register,  _did you just give her your number on her receipt._  
   
 _Because,_ argued a smaller voice,  _look at the way she lit up when you did._  
   
She prayed a distraction would arise, that could yank her away from the one problem that had consumed her for the past days. And one did, in the form of her slamming her hand in the cash drawer, causing bright red spots to bloom on her fingers, which would surely turn a promising purple in the days to come, and thus elicited a loud barrage of expletives, so loud it caused Bianca to frown at her, and Pearl to turn around, halfway down the walkway.  
   
For the rest of the shift, Violet didn’t think of Pearl.  
   
But the second she clocked off, nursing swollen fingers, her thoughts flickered back to Pearl, and whether she’d thought of Violet at all. Retrieving her phone from her back pocket alerted her that yes, Pearl had been thinking about her, and it showed in the form of multiple consecutive messages.  
   
All that afternoon, and even for the rest of the night, and the morning that followed, Violet battled fatigue and stinging eyes talking to Pearl the whole time. When the clock ticked 4am, Violet decided she’d head to bed, but she went content.  
   
She’d earlier thought what she and Pearl shared wasn’t something unique, it was just typical feelings she always suffered from. And through Violet’s sleep riddled brain, one thought stood out clearly.  
 _Even if Pearl and I are doomed to fall apart, I’m going to love every single second we’re together._  
One choice of Pearl’s to choose a certain checkout months ago had turned into something Violet didn’t really know what to call. But she was so grateful that the choice had been made.  
   
+++  
   
Courtney couldn’t quite believe where she was. She was a professional, and regarded her job with the utmost importance. Which was why she couldn’t quite get it through her head, that instead of shelving products, or processing produce, she was pinned against a wall in the back storeroom by the other blonde manager of the store. Willam had grabbed her as she’d been about to log off.  
   
“What the heck is this,” she whispered to Willam, eyes darting around the empty storeroom.  
“Why the heck are you whispering?” mocked the other, a smile playing on her lips.  
Courtney pursed her lips “What are we doing? Someone might come in and then what would happen?”  
“If you want me to stop,” replied Willam, trailing off and relieving some of the pressure of Courtney as she eased herself off the other. Courtney let out a small noise almost like a whine, and prayed to any entity up there that Willam hadn’t heard. She had, and the smirk pressing against her lips deepened.  
“So you do want to know why I pulled you into a storeroom?”  
Rolling her eyes, Courtney responded. “Cut the theatrics Belli, yes I do.” She glared at Willam, but added as an afterthought: “I think I have a fairly good idea why.”  
   
Unexpectedly, Willam sat down on a nearby box. Courtney couldn’t help feeling slightly disappointed.  _God, get a grip, Court_ , she thought, shaking her head at her own thoughts.   
“I wanted to tell you something,” said Willam looking up at the Australian from the box.  
“Okay, shoot.”  
   
Willam’s words came out too fast, a jumbled mess, as though she had rehearsed what she wanted to say, but was not fully comfortable with what she was saying. “I’m quitting my job here. I’m through university, and I’ve applied for a job I want, and I’ve been accepted. There’s no reason for me to stay here from a career standpoint-” began Willam.  
“Will that’s great!” Courtney interjected.   
“I just haven’t handed in my resignation because I was scared if I left here, I’d never see you again,” said Willam, looking down at her feet.  
Courtney chuckled softly. “Three weeks ago, I would have said ‘why the hell am I here? Why am I in the back room with the meat manager?’ I used to hate you Will-”  
“Ooh, thanks.”  
Rolling her eyes, Courtney swatted Willam’s shoulder. “Shut up bitch, let me have my monologue. I used to hate you but now we’re here, and yeah I’m going to miss you like hell, but it’ll be okay because we’ll always be here for each other.”  
“Aw, you’re cute.”  
“No, I mean it.” Courtney took a deep breath before continuing. “I’ve gotten to the point where I would be upset if I never saw you again, so that’s why I’m going to see you again, because you’re going to take me out to dinner sometime.”  
   
Willam’s eyes brightened, and she stood up from her box. “Really?” she asked incredulously. “I’m not paying for anyone bitch.”  
Courtney began to respond, but was stopped by Willam’s lips on her own. Pulling away a bit, and hitting her head on the smooth concrete of the storeroom she asked, “what are you doing?”  
“Is it cliché to say something I’ve wanted to do for a very long time before making out with you?”  
“Ah….yes.”  
“Damn it.”  
“Just the making out is fine though,” responded Courtney.  
There was a moment of silence between them. Willam looked up into Courtney’s eyes.   
“You do want this right?”  
Courtney’s answer was just a little too quick. “God, yes, of course.”  
   
And they were back where they started out, Courtney’s back pressed to the wall, wedged between Willam, bodies fitting perfectly. Willam’s pink glossy mouth on hers, moving with a gentle intensity. It was exactly how Courtney had imagined kissing Willam would be, but even better.   
   
A crash tore them apart, and Courtney sputtered on a whirl of blonde hair suddenly in her face.  
“Is anyone there?” called Willam, and Courtney noticed the storeroom door was ajar now. Willam turned back to Courtney, panic mirrored across both their faces.  
   
“Shoot there is someone else in here,” came the response, a Russian accent enhancing certain words.  
“Katya?” exclaimed Courtney.  
The Russian materialised from behind a pile of boxes, hand clamped to a girl Courtney had never seen before.  
“Courtney? Um, I didn’t realise the storeroom was being, um, used.”  
Willam snorted, and Courtney prayed a hole in the ground would open up and swallow her.  
“What are you doing in here?” asked Katya, glancing at the other blonde next to her, who shrugged.  
   
“I was just doing…stuff,” said Courtney, wincing at her lame excuse.  
Willam raised a hand. “That’s me,” she said. “I’m stuff.”  
Katya and the other girl laughed, and Courtney felt her cheeks fill with colour as they laughed at her expense.  
“C'mon Trix,” murmured Katya, just loud enough for Courtney to hear, “there’ll be no one in the fridge.”  
Trixie rolled her eyes. “It’ll be cold,” she complained. Katya waggled her eyebrows.   
“That’s what makes it more fun.”  
The two exited the storeroom, laughing between themselves, and Courtney was alone with Willam again.  
   
“What the fuck was that?” asked Willam.  
“What the fuck is this?” quipped back Courtney.  
Willam smiled softly, “that is very true,” she whispered, leaning back in.  
   
+++  
   
It was late at night, and Phi Phi had her shift tomorrow, and she was seriously debating whether it was worth even going, or if she should just chuck a sickie. She hadn’t been in contact with Sharon, so she didn’t know how the resignation had gone, but she knew she was supposed to be training a new checkout operator so she could only assume Sharon had been replaced.  
   
Truth be told, ever since her chat with Sharon she’d been less and less excited about working. The money that trickled into her bank account weekly now no longer made her feel proud, she just felt empty, and she had a feeling that working without Sharon wouldn’t do this emptiness any favours. Sharon had opened her eyes to a lot of stuff, most notably that the life she was living and the path she was taking was not going to get her anywhere where she’d be happy.   
   
She snapped herself out of her daze and back to her computer where Netflix had loaded, asking if she was still there. Exiting the site, she realised she had a new email notification, and she pulled it up to read it. It was a design agency, one of the ones Phi Phi had emailed after she’d talked to Sharon about her life’s direction. She’d been asking everywhere she could think of, asking if they’d take work experience, if they’d offer her a job. She’d had nothing but silence from their end, which had not helped her confidence in her abilities at all. Deciding that creating a portfolio and just jumping straight in to applying for work would appease her father a little more than waiting to do a course, she’d worried she’d made the wrong decision.  
   
But there was always a little soundbite trapped in her head of Sharon’s voice telling her that this was her life, not her fathers. If Sharon could do what she wanted and live her dreams, she could bring Phi Phi with her. It was weird, Phi Phi mused, the impact the tall blonde had had on her – they had literally despised each other at first, Sharon’s “go with the flow” attitude often coming to a head with Phi Phi’s intensely driven one. But that was a long time ago, and things had changed so much, Phi Phi almost couldn’t believe it.  
   
This email was from a smaller agency, but it still announced the message Phi Phi had been longing to hear. Essentially, she would be starting a month’s work experience, and that could develop into a job offer. A wide grin spreading over her face, Phi Phi made a loud noise of satisfaction and immediately brought up the window to reply, letting everything she’d been taught about making good decisions and waiting overnight fly out the window.  
   
In an almost poetic coincidence, almost the exact second Phi Phi hit send on the email, her phone lit up with a notification. For a second, Phi Phi could only blink at it before scooping it up and lying back on her bed, groaning when she saw it was Michelle asking her if she could pick up an extra shift from now on.  
   
Phi Phi knew what her response had to be, but she did not want to execute it. Michelle was feared by almost all the staff, and for good reason, although it was rumoured she had a heart of gold. Maybe the fact Sharon hadn’t responded to her in almost a week was because Michelle had murdered her or something equally as terrible. Rolling her eyes at her stupid overimagination she started typing out the email, words coming to her heavy in her mind and flinging them into sentences.  
   
 _I’m leaving…. Moving on … Bigger things…..Enjoyable working here…..I’m so sorry._  
   
She wasn’t quite sure if the jumbled, excited chaos that was her mind had translated particularly well, but the intent was clear. Phi Phi O’Hara, after working at the same supermarket for almost four years, was quitting. She hit send, heart beating a million miles in her chest, for some reason suddenly stressed about what Michelle would say to her.  
   
Michelle’s response was really nothing worth stressing over.  
   
 _Alright Phi Phi. Thank you. It’s been a pleasure having you work for us. We’ll get everything settled next time you come in._  
   
Heart still hammering, she pulled up Sharon’s number, and let her thumb hover over the call button for just a second before bringing it down and initiating the dial tone. It rang through, Sharon’s voice telling her to leave a message, she could almost hear the endearing sneer in the words. After a brief pause, Phi Phi began to speak.  
   
“Hey Sharon, it’s Phi Phi, I wanted to know if you’d want to catch up to talk and because I really want to see you again- like, yeah that came out wrong, but I would. I’ve made some changes to my life and I want to share them with you because it’s kinda because of you that all this is happening. Ooh, sorry I’m rambling, I’ll say bye now, call me back. Love ya!”  
   
She hung up and threw her phone on the floor before moving to flick her bedroom lights off. She rolled over to fall asleep, as her phone lit up with new text messages.  
   
 **From Party City:** _I’d love to man!_  
 **From Party City:** _I’m so happy you’re happy_  
   
 **From Party City:** _Love you too xx_  
   
+++  
   
For so long Bianca’s life had been predictable. She had lived in mornings, opening a store she didn’t want to be at, just so she could earn the money that her shows couldn’t provide. She’d gotten into a routine, and liked it. She’d snark at dumb customers, countdown the minutes until she could clock off, then leave the store, and go home and live her life. She’d never lived in the evenings. Sure, it hadn’t been the best routine, but it was familiar.   
   
Adore Delano had been a new part of the routine.  
   
Bianca usually had no time for the technicolour-haired, hungover musicians she’d see roaming the club strip in the early morning. She thought they were fake and shallow, despite the faint allure they had, like holograms. But for some reason, one girl had changed her entire view. That first meeting, months ago, doesn’t seem life changing - just a girl asking where to find a pick-me-up, slurring her words, swinging her hair and actually laughing at Bianca’s jokes, unlike half of the customers that just blinked gormlessly.  
   
Now, Bianca would tuck a bottle of Berocca behind the display at her register everyday for when Adore came through at the crack of dawn. A single action that had changed her entire routine, had led to her being excited to go to work, to talk to Adore.   
   
That was why Bianca was now standing in a club she’d seen online, that advertised a certain singer, that she knew Adore raved about. It was why she’d changed her sensible work shirts and typical boat neck dresses for a shorter number and why she’d let her hair out, and swept it through with glitter.   
   
She wasn’t really sure if the glitter was a good idea.  
   
She was standing in the club, awkwardly off to the side.  
 _You are too old for this_ , she thought, and was about to turn and leave, when a hand grabbed her arm. She whirled back around, to see Adore in a glittery black singlet and cutoff shorts. It was an Adore she’d seen so many times, but she looked better. Bianca acknowledged everyone did when their eyeliner wasn’t smudged from a night of dancing and drinking and their lipstick actually stayed on their plump, full lips.  
 _God she has nice lips_.  
   
“Oh my god Bianca, you look so great! I love the glitter!” squealed Adore.  
“And you actually don’t look like a hot mess for once,” responded Bianca.  
“I always look hot though.”  
Bianca rolled her eyes then cracked a smile. “That you do.”  
Adore’s face lit up and she began pulling Bianca with her.   
“Come dance with me,” she yelled before disappearing into the crowd.  
   
Bianca hesitated.  _Am I too old for this?_  she wondered. She glanced over to Adore who was now waiting in the centre of the club, swaying to the pounding beat.  _What the hell_ , she thought, and stepped onto the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for seeing the whole thing through! Also, I just realised that I submitted all my chapters without the italics and formatting, but tbh I'm too lazy to change anything


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